Just because J R was now encouraging me to put myself forward
for aircrew selection didn’t guarantee me any favours at Biggen Hill where the
selection process would happen. In fact
there was a procedure I would have to go through at Wildenrath before my
application would be forwarded on. First
of all I would have to have an interview with my immediate boss Tony Bown. Then, if he approved my application, I would
be put forward for an interview with J R.
If J R approved then my application would be put to the station
commander. I would have to have an
interview with the station commander and if he approved then my papers would be
sent to Biggen Hill who would decide if they would invite me to undergo the
selection process.
Certain people advised that it was easier to buy yourself out
of the forces and then reapply to come back in.
Derek, one of the three Irish guys I often stayed with in London, had
done this and unfortunately, during the medical part of the selection process, had
discovered he had a hole in his heart so ended up with nothing at all. It would be safe to say that both Tony and J
R would approve my application as for the station commander I wasn’t sure. I knew him as he often went flying with us
and we had a good, easy going, working relationship, but this fellow was a Group
Captain and I wasn’t exactly on his Christmas card list.
We had an annual assessment process in the air force. You would be given a numerical grading
ranging from one to nine, with nine being the top and five the average. There would be a write up describing your
competence, your deportment and your contribution to the unit through secondary
duties. This was the sort of process I
would be going through except there would be an additional focus as to my
suitability for aircrew. I aced my
promotion exam for air traffic control, was training every day with a good long
jog and was keeping an eye on current affairs.
Everyone, even those who had never been to Biggen Hill, had an
opinion on how to prepare. For me there
were three basic elements. One was physical
fitness which I could do something about.
The second was current affairs which again I could do something about
and the third element was me which I couldn’t really do much about. You either had it or you didn’t. In the world
of air traffic control the annual assessment was a closely guarded thing. You were never allowed to see what was written
about you. You would be brought in for
your annual interview, worrying that anything less than five was a mandatory
interview with the station commander, although I’m not sure if that was an
urban myth or not.
The supervising officer would then read the report to you and
reveal your numeric grade. You would be
shown the numbers on the back of the report and would sign as having been
briefed on you assessment. The only day
you could actually see what was written was your last day of service. This of course was 92 squadron and these guys
were aircrew, not failed aircrew like all air traffickers. One evening Tony Bown was leaving the
squadron and he waited for some others guys to vacate the ops room when he said
to me. “Make sure the aircrew study room
is securely locked tonight.” I wondered
what he was getting at as I always made sure all the doors were securely
locked.
“The write up from me and the Boss, for your aircrew
application, is in my locker and I would hate it if it got into the wrong
hands.” I went into the study room and
looked in Tony’s locker and sure enough there was the file. He had written his report on me and he had
also written one for J R. I must have
been blushing when I read it for it was an amazing report. I sat down and copied it out by hand as I
wanted to show Irene. Over the next day or two the paperwork was
prepared and sent off to the station commander.
I twiddled my thumbs and worried and was determined to stay out of
trouble.
The squadron was going through a little rough patch. An RAF policeman had gone to the squadron’s single
accommodation block to investigate a theft from a car. He wandered in to the main common room and found
twelve of our guys relaxing with beer and spliffs. It must have seemed like Christmas for the copper
who arrested all present. We were only a
couple of miles away from Holland, where marijuana was legal, so quite
naturally it would often find its way back across the border. Unfortunately the RAF police looked on the
use of marijuana as a very serious affair and the special investigators, the
SIB, were called in. The SIB were a
nasty bunch of guys and feared throughout the air force not for their abilities
but for their actions which were often quite malicious and over the top to say the least.
The next day, a Sunday, the SIB arrived on Wildenrath and
were taken to the scene of the crime where they now found a further five
squadron guys stretched out drinking beer and smoking spliffs. It was quite a blow for the squadron although
most of us laughed it off, the disciplinarians didn’t know how to react. It ended up with the remainder of the
squadron being given drill. How, or why,
making the remainder of the squadron march around the dispersal would stop anyone
from using marijuana was beyond me. A knee
jerk reaction in the finest military tradition.
Then came the great news that my application had been
approved by the station commander and I was to be interviewed by him. I was behind the ops desk in my best uniform
when J R came in from flying. “Why are you
in your best blue?” he asked. “I have my
interview with the station commander in about an hour Boss.” I replied.
Tony, who had also been flying, wandered in and J R says to him. “Did you know he had an interview with the
station commander?” “Yeah,” says Tony,
adding. “Shit, is it today?” “Yes,” I say, adding. “In about an hour.” “But I haven’t interviewed you yet,” says J
R who immediately lifts his gear and says to me. “Right, my office now.”
I went in to J R’s office and he set his bone dome on his
desk. “Look,” says J R. “You’ll be fine. Just be yourself, you know the station
commander he’s a nice fellow. Any
questions?” “No boss,” I say. “Okay good,” says J R. “Don’t worry about it you’ll be fine. But if anyone asks just say we had a proper
interview.” “No problem Boss,” I said, making
my way back to ops where Tony is pacing about.
“That didn’t take long,” he says.
“Actually,” I say. “The Boss gave
me a full and comprehensive interview.” “Just like I did,” says Tony. To which I can only reply. “Just like you did.”
I took J R’s mini, with the name plate covered up, and drove
to the station commander’s office. I
went and reported to his admin sergeant.
The Sergeant looked me up and down and then briefed me. “I will bring you to attention out here in
the corridor. I will march you in to the
office. You will come to attention in front
of the station commander. You will salute,
he will return the salute. The station
commander will then stand you at ease and I will leave the office. He will invite you to sit down. You will have coffee and he will interview
you. The interview will last about one
hour. I will, be listening on the
intercom. When the station commander
begins to wind up the interview I will come back in, bring you to attention,
salute, about turn and exit. Understand?”
It was all pretty straight forward. I took a deep breath and marched in to the
station commander’s office. The process
was going fine except before inviting me to sit down, he opened my personnel
file. I heard the office door click shut
as the admin sergeant left. “I never
knew you were on mountain rescue Paddy.” “ Yes sir,” I said, adding. “At Valley.”
He closed the file. “As far as I
am concerned mountain rescue men are heroes.
I’m sure you will do very well at Biggen Hill. I’m approving your application.” There was a ruckus outside as the sergeant
fell over his desk trying to get back in and march me out. I drove back to the squadron where both J R
and Tony were wanting to know why I was back so early. I know I told them what had happened but in
my mind I was trying to calculate how many years had been wasted because of the
fecking useless air traffickers. All I
had to do now was hope Biggen Hill approved and invited me over for their week
long selection process.
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